Warming Up
by Protected by a Silver Spoon
Summary: Originally a oneshot. Daryl and Beth together and apart after the prison.
1. Chapter 1

Daryl reached up behind him to feel the damage that the rusted barbed wire fence had done. His shirt was torn straight through and his fingers came back bloody. He cursed himself for not wearing his leather vest and made his way empty handed back to the prison and asked for someone to send Hershel to his cell.

He used his still clean hunting knife to cut off what was left of his tattered shirt and stood watching for the old vet to come into his cell. The sight of blond hair instead of white threw him. Daryl couldn't stop his body from tensing and taking the few steps back that his small room would allow.

"Where's Hershel?" He cleared his throat immediately after, it did nothing to mask the nervousness in his low voice.

"He's teaching a first aid class, I didn't think you would want to be the class project." Beth smiled softly up at him. "Come sit."

"Uh, no. That's a'right. I'll just wait for him." Daryl's eyes met hers for a second before dropping back down to lock on his still muddy boots.

"Daryl, I know what I'm doing. You gotta let me clean those cuts, can't have you getting laid up for being stubborn. Come on now." She patted the bed in front of her.

He shifted back and forth between his toes and heels a few times before sucking in a sharp breath and nearly flinging himself on the edge of his bed. His body was tense and straight, his hands sat white knuckled in on themselves and his chin dropped down to his heaving chest as he tried to slow his breathing. He knew the instant Beth looked up from her first aid kit. He heard the gasp she took in and clenched his jaw even tighter in response. He was instantly brought back to that time, Before, when he had dropped his bike. It was July and he hadn't been wearing his leather because of the heat wave. The road tore up his shoulder, not awful, but just enough where he couldn't patch it up with just booze and band aids. The nurse was cute, she seemed to like his smile. They flirted while she prepped the room. The sultry look she was giving to the banged up biker disappeared when she saw his back. He turned around to see only pity on her face. It was even worse when she came back from checking his records. He knew what was in them. He didn't want to see that look from Beth.

He felt Beth reach for something and then place a hand just above where he was cut. "This is going to sting, ready?"

"Mmhmm." It was the only reply he could force out of his clenched teeth.

She worked quietly for a minute, listening to the slight grunt of pain he made while she dabbed clean the open cuts. "It's not as bad as I thought. You don't need any stitches. Shouldn't even scar up." Her hand froze in the middle of smoothing down the last piece of tape. "I… sorry… I didn't…"

"I'm pretty banged up as it is." He let out a cough, "Dropped my bike a lot when I was younger." He kept his voice quiet, not liking the way the lie felt coming off his tongue.

He heard her close up the kit, nearly flew off the bed when he felt her hand on his shoulder. He turned his body toward her but kept his eyes trained on his lap. The tension in his body leaving his muscles strung tighter than his crossbow.

She sighed as she reached out to touch his hand. Her voice was so gentle when she spoke, "When I was eleven, Daddy brought home a horse. He was so jumpy, scared of anyone getting to close. His back looked just like yours."

Daryl looked up, her eyes were soft, full of concern, understanding. He didn't see the pitiful stare he had expected. After clearing his throat he turned his head away.

"Some drunk had kept him penned up, trapped. Just to take his nastiness out on him. He was half starved. They were scars from being whipped, Daryl.

"Mmhmm." His chest was tightening up. Hershel would've just cleaned him up and left. He could feel his eyes welling up. There was a pit in his stomach and a lump in his throat.

Beth's soft voice kept going, "Daddy fixed him up, fed him, got him healthy. He would stand in the paddock, against the fence, just watching everyone. Never really bonded with any of the other horses." Beth reached out for his other hand and pulled them both into her lap.

Daryl's breath hitched as he watched her small hands touch his rough ones. Her thumbs rubbed softly on the outside of his wrists while her fingertips kept a gentle pressure on his palms. "Can't blame him," he whispered roughly.

"No, couldn't blame him. He never knew anything else. Just harsh words and pain."

"S'no way to live." He ignored the emotion in his voice.

"No, it wasn't. Hurt, scared, never knowing what he did wrong…"

"And hungry. But…Alone. Alone was the worst, worse than yelled at, worse than beat." He focused on her rubbing his hands. "Waking up on the dirty floor or the pissed stained couch, him passed out, Merle gone. No one there." He pulled in a deep shaking breath, "Hurtin' so bad and no one there." Daryl started to pull his had away to rub his eyes. It was too much. Beth beat him to it though, and instead of him rubbing the offending tears away, she gently brushed them off his cheeks.

"But then there was someone there."

Daryl sniffled and coughed a bit to clear his throat, "Couldn't just forget though. Always gonna be there."

Beth stood, rearranged her things on the bed. "Yeah, he never did forget." Daryl saw a small smile ghost over her face.

He cleared his throat again and reached out to take her hand. "So what happened?"

"With Pheonix?"

"The horse? S'that his name?"

Beth smiled and squeezed Daryl's hand. "Yeah. I went everyday and sat next to his stall, talking to him. Then feeding him. Then brushing him. Then he decided he was mine." Beth raked his fingers through Daryl's hair. "He never threw me, always knew what I was asking him to do. He just knew."

Daryl's voice came out softer than he had ever heard before, "Knew what?"

She bent down and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. "That even though he was mine, I was his too."


	2. Chapter 2

Judith had been fussing all day and Beth could feel impatience and fatigue creeping up into her. The baby book said she was probably cutting her first teeth so this felt more like the beginning of what was to come than just one tough day. The rain outside wasn't helping things either. It seemed like everyone was busy doing something and Beth was left just trying to settle the baby. She felt more than heard someone come into her cell, that alone told her who it was.

"S' wrong with her?" Daryl's deep voice asked from the doorway.

It felt like he had been keeping his distance since she had cleaned him up a week ago. Beth knew there had been some shift made when she told him that story but she couldn't tell yet what that meant. She had noticed him watching her a bit more than usual. Before it had seemed like he looked at her to see the baby, now she felt like he was seeing her.

"Teethin' I think." Beth shifted Judith up on her hip, "I can't get her to quiet down."

"Mmhmm." He moved by her to the laundry that sat on the desk, pulled out a clean washcloth and wet it from his water bottle. "Lemme see, sweetheart." Daryl's voice changed as he addressed the fussing baby. His almost constant defensive stance dropped, the tension in his body went slack. Beth had seen this shift in him whenever he was near Judith, she wasn't sure what to think of the fact that she noticed it. He wrapped the cloth around his finger and used it to rub her gums. Beth felt her skin pebble at his closeness.

Judith made small noises as she chewed a bit on Daryl's finger. Beth saw a small smile pull at the corners of his mouth when the baby reached out for him. He sat on the bed with her in his lap.

"I never woulda thought you'd be so good with a baby."

"Yeah, well…" He let Judith take the cloth and looked down on her. "S' just nice I guess. Her bein' here."

Beth cleared her throat, "Did… did you have kids… before?"

Daryl shook his head, "Nah, never was in a spot to do that." He chewed on the inside of his lip, "Wouldn'ta been good at it then anyhow." He held up one of the toys strewn across the bed and didn't try to hide his grin as the baby squealed at the sight.

"Well, you're good at it now. I've been trying to get her happy all day, you did it in a minute."

She saw a slight blush come over his cheek.

"S' nothin' really." He glanced up at Beth, "You do all the work. Ain't no way Imma come in here an' change diapers."

"That's women's work, huh?"

He shook his head, "Nah, s'just you take care of people. S' who you are, doin' the grunt work so we can see some good. Wakin' up at night with her, walkin' around." He shifted under Beth's gaze. "I hear you singin' to her, keepin' her happy." He stood and handed Judith back to Beth and watched as she settled back on her slender hip. Daryl bent and kissed the baby on the cheek, he took a deep breath in. "It helps. It helps more than just her."

He cleared his throat and spun out of the cell leaving Beth in a whirlwind. She listened as his boots uncharacteristically clambered down the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Just a quick thank you to the readers and reviewers! I want to keep this timeline as close to canon as I can but would love to hear any ideas for scenes you guys might want to see! If I don't use them here I have a few more incarnations of Daryl and Beth rolling around in my head. Thanks for reading!**

Daryl sighed to himself as he walked up to Beth's cell. The last thing he had said to her was some smart ass quip about the two of them being all lovey-dovey and now he had to tell her the kid wasn't coming back. He couldn't lie to himself and say he was happy to see her with Zach, but he had seen the smiles on her face when the two them were together. He couldn't lie to himself and say he didn't wish those smiles were for him, but he didn't wish anything bad on the kid. He couldn't stand the thought of another person being gone. He couldn't stand the thought of it happening on his watch.

He was relieved that she didn't cry, it was hard enough to see the dull, resigned look in her eyes. But then she turned it around, and he always ended up saying more to her than he wanted to. She wrapped her arms around him, and despite his initial panic, he let himself cradle her arm and rested his chin on her head. In that small embrace Daryl felt the suffocating guilt recede, even if it was only for a moment. Beth had threaded her fingers with his as he mumbled something about setting up night watch. She looked up at him, "Goodnight, Daryl."

"G'night."

He hurried getting outside, the air in the cellblock was sitting heavy in his chest. As soon as he made it out the door Daryl fisted a hand in his hair and took several heaving breaths in. He didn't see the figure sitting at the picnic table.

"Rough time today, son?" Hershel's voice settled in the night air.

Daryl shook his head, "Shoulda checked it better. Goddamn helicopter! The hell S'I supposeda know?" Daryl turned and kicked at an offending spot on the wall.

"You couldn't have known that." Hershel shook his head, "You went in there to take care of everyone. You were doing your part."

"Yeah, m'part of gettin' one of our people killed." He sighed, "Th'look in her eye when I told her…"

Hershel cleared his throat, "Beth?"

"Mmhmm."

"She doesn't blame you, no one does, son."

"Ain't your son, ain't no one's anything!" Daryl's voice was a low growl as he stalked away.

Hershel shook his head, "Shame you can't see it."


	4. Chapter 4

He completely shut down when they left the prison. A quick glance here and there was the only contact they had with each other. Even though she barely got a grunt for a response, she would talk to him every now and then as they made their way through the woods, steadily moving away from the place she had just started to call home, the only place that had ever felt like a home for him. She watched his quick steps when they stopped to make camp the first night. It seemed like he was unsure about every decision they made. She kept camp set up, he brought back food.

Daryl paced the small clearing they had stopped at, Carol was gone. He had wasted time wandering around looking for her. Just like he had looked for Merle, just like he had looked for Sofia. The rest of his family was gone and all Beth wanted to do was search for ghosts. He never wanted to look for someone again, every time he set out searchin' he came back empty handed and heavy hearted. He felt panic rise up in his chest when he walked away to find food for them. He could picture going back to nothing, no one. Everyone else was gone, but he couldn't help but thank that god her father had put so much stock in that she was still there with him.

Rage and terror were coursing through him the whole time. He could hardly close his eyes without seeing Michonne's sword coming down into Hershel's neck, when he closed his eyes it was Beth's neck opening up in front of him. Daryl took watch that night. She slept on and off, jerking awake and not settling back down down until her eyes rested on him. He held his breath at every mumbled name her sleeping lips mumbled. His guttural groan at the mention of the baby nearly woke her up. He made himself watch her sleep, it kept those awful images away from his eyes. Her blond hair and furrowed brow meant that he wasn't alone. The first night in that makeshift camp, Daryl just sat and watched the girl whose father he had failed to save, the girl who got torn away from knowing wether or not she had any family left. He sat and watched the girl that was the only family he had left.

They kept trekking through the woods and when she begged him to help her track, to follow that glimmer of hope she still seemed to carry around with her, all Daryl could feel was the overwhelming weight of guilt settling in on his shoulders. He lashed out at her naivety, what could faith do for them? The way she turned from him and focused all her attention away made his a lump form in his throat and his stomach churn. It was worse when they found those walkers. He couldn't look at her. Beth had told him she didn't cry anymore, she lied. She lied and she was standing there sobbing because he fucked up. He turned away.

Their camp that night was thrown together, Daryl knew it would be another night of not sleeping and it was beginning to catch up on him. They hadn't been set up long before they were grabbing things up and taking off again as the groans and growls got closer with the thunder. The beat up car wouldn't do anything to keep them safe, but he knew how big those old model trunks were. It'd be tight but they would fit. Crammed in together in that car, even though he hated being closed in and hated those storms that just rolled in outta nowhere, he felt a small bit of tension leave. Nothing was going to get them in here, he was keeping her safe. With every crash of thunder resonating through his body he told himself that, every time she flinched next to him and let her fingers brush against his ankle Daryl remembered he was not alone.


	5. Chapter 5

Beth held onto Daryl as strongly as she could. His body shuddered as he broke there in her arms. Tears were threatening to fall from her eyes too, hearing his sobbed confession of guilt was more than she could handle. Beth didn't know how long they stood there, but as Daryl calmed and his breathing evened out, she went to pull away and was surprised when his hand moved to cover both of hers on his chest. He didn't say anything, just stood there rubbing his calloused fingertips back and forth across her knuckles. His outburst inside made Beth wonder if anyone had ever been there to hold him like she had. She remembered the way he flinched at the initial touch of a hand and the slight tremor in his rare attempts at contact. No, there hadn't ever been someone to hold him together.

She felt him take a deep breath in and then shakily let it out as he turned to face her. His eyes were down, locked somewhere between their feet. Beth let her eyes settle on his face, tear tracks stood out against days of being in the woods, his nose was running. His rough hands were clenched in white knuckled fists at his sides. Daryl didn't move as she pulled his bandana from his pocket and wiped his face. He didn't move when she brushed his to long, greasy hair out of his eyes.

"Daryl." She whispered his name.

"Daryl." She said it stronger this time, and when he didn't respond she took his scruffy chin and tipped his face to look at her. His eyes met with hers for a moment and the shame in them nearly brought her to tears again before he dropped his gaze.

The moonshine made her brave, "Daryl Dixon. You listen to me right now." Beth moved her hand to his cheek. "That's not on you." She realized he was holding his breath. "That was never on you." He clenched his eyes shut. "That is not on you." She took his face in both of her small hands, "Look at me."

He finally did.

"It's not on you. It's not your fault, Daryl. It's not. Your. Fault."

Beth barely got the last word out and he was crushing her to his heaving chest. He clung to her so desperately that she couldn't move her arms to wrap around him. Beth had always wondered what the priest felt like when taking confession, when someone was truly sorry for what they had done. She wondered if this was what offering forgiveness felt like.

"M'sorry, m'sorry. M'so sorry." He kept repeating it over and over until Beth's hand found the opening in his shirt, her palm rested on his chest.

"I know, I know, Daryl."

His hold on her loosened and one of his hands caught in her hair. "M'gonna keep you safe, Beth. I swear." He pushed her away and locked his blue eyes on hers, "I swear."

"I know." She reached down for his hand and couldn't suppress a smile when he didn't even try to pull away. He gave her hand a squeeze.

"Next round's on me."


	6. Chapter 6

It was a day after they burnt down the shack that the rain started. It was a cold rain, freezing as it hit the ground and bouncing up in little pebbles against their feet. Daryl had never been more grateful to see a battered single wide in all his life. The pair did a quick sweep of the area and strung up their makeshift alarms before barricading themselves in the abandoned trailer.

He could feel himself shivering against the wet cold and listened to Beth rummaging around the back of the place instead of his teeth clacking together. There wasn't any food left in any of the cabinets.

"I got some towels, get those clothes off." She chattered, throwing the worn out bath towels his way. He wrapped one around his shoulders and left his boxers on. Beth came back into the room wearing a pink bathrobe and carrying a blue one. "Found these, some socks too."

"Thanks." Daryl felt the shame show in his cheeks when he left his body exposed to bring the towel to his dripping hair. He knew that she had seen him before and that things had changed again between them, but old habits die hard. He couldn't stop the almost violent flinch as Beth came up behind him and draped the robe over his marred shoulders.

"Let me." One hand hovered above his on the towel.

Daryl huffed in response but didn't fight her. He was feeling raw and beat down. they had been moving nonstop and he was going on his third day of no sleep. The hangover wasn't helping either. He dropped his hands to quickly tug the robe on, the left one held the front closed up to his chin and his right thumbnail made it's way up to his mouth. Beth worked the towel through his hair, wicking away the cold water. The rain was clanking down on the tin roof of the trailer, Daryl had always hated that sound. After the fire his father had rigged up a patchwork of metal to serve as the new roof, it leaked in Daryl's bedroom.

He was trying to lock it up, like Beth said. Trying to put it away, but a crack of lightning made him jump. Exhaustion and grief had worn away his defenses, the armor he had spent years putting together was nothing but kinks. Everything had been ripped away from him and he was left with just her, and she had a way of breaking him down and building him back up all at once. These past few days had brought up things that he was constantly trying to keep buried and now he was sitting on the floor of some trailer practically naked while this beautiful, young thing was making him feel things he never thought he would. He felt like he might be worth something to someone.

Beth finished with his hair and moved her hands to his shoulders, Daryl tensed under her touch and pulled the robe tighter. She moved to rub his flexed biceps. "You're so strung up right now, you need to relax and sleep, let me." Her right hand went to the back of his neck and slid under the collar of the robe to his taught shoulder. He didn't fight back when the left followed. When Beth pushed the bathrobe off his shoulders, Daryl pulled it right back up.

"Don't." His voice was soft and low.

"It's alright, I know what's there."

"S' ugly."

She pushed it down again, "It's just part of you, not ugly at all."

He pulled in a quick breath when she ran her fingers over the uneven and discolored skin of his back. "Ain't showed 'em to anyone on purpose."

Beth began working at the knots at the top of his strong back. "What about when you were… ya know… with a girl?"

He shook his head, "Left my shirt on."

"You never took off your shirt for your girlfriends?"

He shook his head again, "Never really had girlfriends. Jus' girls that Merle knew. They's always gone th' next day."

Beth didn't know what to think, the gravity of her closeness to him struck her out of nowhere. She realized suddenly how much she had pushed him out of his comfort zone. "Is this alright? I… I mean do you want me to stop?"

"Nah, s'alright." He shifted a bit on the floor, "Feels good."

They sat like that in comfortable silence. Beth methodically worked her hands along the expanse of his back loosening what felt like years worth of tension. The clap of thunder caught them both off guard, Daryl flinched at the sound and Beth flung her arms around him. He stroked her forearm, "Never liked storms."

"Me either. Mama used to come into my room and sing me back to sleep."

Daryl turned to catch her eye, "Like in Sound of Music?" He shook his head, it was hard to know some people had actually lived like that. "I just laid up all night an' slept at school."

Beth moved away from him for a moment then. She rearranged the few pillows and blankets they had there and settled back down. "Come here."

He looked at her with questioning eyes.

"Come lay here," She patted the spot beside her, "I'll take first watch."

Daryl worked his bottom lip between his teeth before adjusting the bathrobe and moving to lay his head on the pillow next to her. Beth sighed as she reached out to touch his hair. The quiet contact between them left her feeling more peaceful than she would have expected. Another crack of lightening and they both flinched, his hand reached out to rest on her knee.

Beth let one hand rest on the crossbow beside her and the other gently raked through his hair. She hummed a little to herself, remembering a song her mother used to sing.

Merle and Daryl had spent time with some stoned old hippie, he remembered the man strumming a song, "I know that." He mumbled softly so Beth began to sing.

_'Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood _

_When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud_

_I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form_

_"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm"_

_And if I pass this way again, you can rest assured_

_I'll always do my best for her, on that I give my word_

_In a world of steel-eyed death, and men who are fighting to be warm_

_"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm"_

_Not a word was spoke between us, there was little risk involved_

_Everything up to that point had been left unresolved_

_Try imagining a place where it's always safe and warm_

_"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm"_

_I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail_

_Poisoned in the bushes an' blown out on the trail_

_Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn_

_"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm"_

_Suddenly I turned around and she was standin' there_

_With silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair_

_She walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns_

_"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm"_

_Now there's a wall between us, somethin' there's been lost_

_I took too much for granted, got my signals crossed_

_Just to think that it all began on a long-forgotten morn_

_"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm"_

_Well, the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount_

_But nothing really matters much, it's doom alone that counts_

_And the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn_

_"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm"_

_I've heard newborn babies wailin' like a mournin' dove_

_And old men with broken teeth stranded without love_

_Do I understand your question, man, is it hopeless and forlorn?_

_"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm"_

_In a little hilltop village, they gambled for my clothes_

_I bargained for salvation an' they gave me a lethal dose_

_I offered up my innocence and got repaid with scorn_

_"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm"_

_Well, I'm livin' in a foreign country but I'm bound to cross the line_

_Beauty walks a razor's edge, someday I'll make it mine_

_If I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born_

_"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm"_

She wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep, his breathing had evened out and his hand rested still on her leg. Beth sat awake listening to the rain ricochetting off their borrowed home and wondering how long this could last.

AN: "Shelter from the Storm" by Bob Dylan. Thanks for reading.


	7. Chapter 7

Daryl had woken in the dusky hours of the morning and took watch while Beth slept. After she woke they waited around for their clothes to dry. Daryl was quiet, he was keeping distance between them, his attention on sharpening their knives and fiddling with his crossbow. Beth did her best to not feel ignored. She sorted through all the cabinets, brushed and braided her hair, and repacked her bag adding in the few odds and ends she had found.

She touched the stack of bracelets that hid the scar on her wrist and thought of her sister. What would Maggie say, after seeing the interaction between them last night? What would she think of her younger sister settling in so comfortable with someone nearly twice her age? She wondered what her father would think. He had respected and trusted Daryl, he had told her so. Hershel came to her after hearing she had patched him up that day, he told her that people who grew up like that didn't always turn out the way Daryl had. He said Daryl was the strongest of their group. Looking back on their conversation, Beth wondered if her father saw the small shift in their interactions. She liked to think he had.

Daryl kept peeking up at her from behind his screen of hair. There was a shadow of a smile on her face. He wondered what she was thinking about. He hoped, for a second, that it was him. As fast as that thought came up he tried his damnedest to fight it back down. He wanted her to think of him and smile, he wanted to make her happy. There was no way in hell he would ever be able to do that for someone like her. He could keep her safe and fed, those things he could do.

He had disappeared too far into his thoughts, when he came back she was looking at him. He used to get yelled at for daydreaming. Beth didn't do anything but smile at him and hold up a half-full bag of cough drops.

"I used to bring these to school. We couldn't bring gum." She tossed one of the cherry flavored drops to him and popped one in her mouth. "I had a bunch of applications out for college. I wish I knew if I got in."

Daryl pushed the hard candy into his cheek, "You's a senior?"

"Junior. That's when you apply." She turned a little red, just like she always did when she was about to ask him something personal. The blush in her cheeks made him feel guilty, he knew it was because of how he had blown up at her playin' that stupid game. "Did… did you finish school?"

"Nah, stopped goin' when I's sixteen."

Beth smiled at him, "We have something in common! Junior year was fun, too. I was excited for prom. Did you go to yours?"

Daryl shook his head. "I's a freshman. Got held back a couple times. Missed too many days."

"Were you sick a lot?"

He locked eyes with her. "No."

The heaviness of the word hung between them.

Daryl remembered why he didn't like personal questions.

Packing up and leaving the trailer had been quiet. Beth was sad to move on from the stillness of this place, she knew it wasn't safe enough to stay there. As they left into the woods Beth looked back over her shoulder and committed the image of their trailer to her memory, she didn't realize it but Daryl did the same.

It was late in the afternoon when they stopped to make camp. Daryl had caught a few squirrels so Beth set out making a fire while he cleaned them.

"Merle told me to drop out."

His voice startled her, they hadn't said a word to each other since the trailer. "Yeah?"

Daryl cleared his throat and moved on to skinning the second squirrel. "He had been gone for awhile, prob'ly in jail. M'not sure though."

Beth rustled the kindling she had gathered, she couldn't do anything meaningful because her eyes were on him. He was squatted down facing away from her, using a rock as a work surface. He threw the second squirrel down and grabbed the next.

"It was gettin' real bad." He grunted, "With my dad." Daryl didn't say anything as he cleaned the last squirrel. He didn't say anything as he cleaned his knife. He didn't say anything until after he drove his knife harshly into the ground beside him. "S'right around my birthday, he separated my shoulder. Told the doctor I did it playin' football with my friends. Told Merle the same thing." He looked over his shoulder at the ground near her feet. "Left the next day."

"Woulda been really bad if I stayed. Hospital bill, school was always callin' 'bout me not showin' up. Easier to jus' go with Merle." He coughed, "Didn't have a date for prom anyhow."

Daryl stood and brought the squirrels over to the fire. Beth watched the way he avoided looking directly at her, like he was trying to gauge her reaction without really seeing it. He stood closer now that he was quiet. She got the squirrels skewered and put them over the flames.

"Sounds like you didn't have much of a choice."

"Mmm." He worked his bottom lip back and forth between his teeth. She was eye level to his clenched fists.

Beth turned the skewers, "Daryl?"

"Mmhmm."

She looked up at him, "My daddy said you were the strongest in our group." Beth waited for him to make eye contact with her. "He was right. You're the strongest man I've met. You had every reason not to be a good man. You aren't just good, Daryl you are one of the best." His face flushed.

"Anyone who ever made you think any different isn't worth your time." Beth turned the skewers. She stared into the fire and could've sworn she felt Daryl's hand hover above her shoulder for a moment. By the time she moved to look for it he was sitting down across from her.


	8. Chapter 8

Days were beginning to slip and slide into each other, sometimes it felt like they had just left prison. Sometimes it felt like it had been her and Daryl all along and everything else was some foggy dream she had had right before she woke up. Sometimes Beth would wake up and think they were still on the road after leaving the farm, those times were the hardest. They wove in and out of the woods during the day, she followed where he led. He was teaching her how to use the crossbow, what to look for in the woods, what you could and couldn't eat. Beth couldn't believe how different this was than being on the run last winter.

Every time they found tracks she could feel hope well up inside her, it could be their family! Every time it was either a dead end or a walker. Beth drove her knife into the rotting eye of the fifth walker they had come across that day, after it fell she stood still.

"Come on. Ain't got nothin' we can use."

She took a breath and fell into step behind him. She was getting used to the silent way Daryl would tell her things. A nod of the head meant for her to take the lead. A shake meant she needed to rethink something. A glare meant she was being too loud. She was still trying to define him reaching up to push her hair out of her face. She didn't have a meaning for the way his hand would brush against hers when they settled down next to each other at night. She wasn't sure what to do when he looked at her with a smile hidden in his blue eyes.

Daryl had never really wanted to reach out and touch someone before. Physical contact had never really had a good end result for him, so the calm that he got when Beth would let her hand linger on his when she handed him something or when she would lean against him in her sleep, caught him off guard. He would feel tension rising up into his chest and the second he brushed her hair away or touched her hand it settled back down to the pit in his stomach that had been there since they left everything behind. He had never let anyone close enough to do that for him before. Walking through those woods it struck him out of nowhere that he needed her. He needed her, not just now that everyone was gone. He had needed her the moment he met her, hell, he needed her way before that. He had been waiting to find her since before she was born. But as soon as the realization struck him, her words from days ago blocked any other thought that could've followed. _'You can't depend on anybody for anything, right?' _ He took a sharp breath in. _'I'll be gone someday.' _He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to hear what came next.

_ "You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone Daryl Dixon.'_

He realized in that instant just how right she would be if it ever came to that.

* * *

The temperature was dropping at night so they had taken to heading to the closest road when the sun started to drop, an abandoned car fared better in the wind than their makeshift tent. It was earlier than when they usually settled in for the night, but the minivan couldn't be passed up. Beth found a candy bar in the glove box and split it with him. There was enough room for them to stretch out where the middle seats had been taken out.

"Get comfortable, I'll take first watch." Beth sat by the window across from where Daryl was sitting, one knee pulled up. She could see the tension in his back and feel the stress rolling off him. She hoped she hadn't done anything to make him so tense. _"Open up your eyes, see how lifetime flies, open up and let the light back in."_

She sung softly and watched him rest his elbow on his drawn up knee. "_Open up your heart, let the lovin' start, open up and let the light back in."_

Beth kept her eyes on him. His eyes closed and he laid his head on his arm. His free hand moved to the frayed pocket on his pants. _"I was thinking of you and me, makin' love beneath the tree, and now I wonder could it be." _His hand stilled.

_"Thinkin' 'bout the times we had, some were good and some were bad, guitar fightin' the T.V."_

Her voice got stronger when she hit the pocket of the chorus.

_"I was thinkin' 'bout you and me_

_ I was thinkin' 'bout you and me_

_ I was thinkin' of you…"_

"Knock it off." He growled it at her.

He hadn't talked to her like that since they burned down the shack. "S…Sorry… I didn't mean…"

Daryl shoved past her into the front seat and stayed silent until he fell asleep.

* * *

Growling.

Loud.

Walkers.

He tried to hold them back but there were too many.

'RUN! BETH, RUN!'

She didn't move.

There were too many.

One grabbed his shoulder.

"Daryl." He gasped awake. Beth was crouched beside him.

"S' everything alright?" His voice was panicked and groggy.

She looked at where her hand still sat on his shoulder. "You were having a nightmare."

He dragged a hand down his face and mumbled into his hand. "Jus' a dream."

Beth sighed, "You mind taking watch?"

He nodded and moved into the back of the van with her. The dream left him more shaken than he would ever admit, he wanted her close. At least until the images faded. Looking at the way she was trying to get comfortable away from him made him feel guilty about earlier.

"Come 'ere"

Beth quirked an eyebrow at him, "You sure?"

Daryl nodded. She settled down next to him and his fingers found their own way to the tips of her hair. "Finish that song?"

Beth smiled at the soft apology in his voice,

_"Lookin' at you just the other night_

_ Dancin' in the evening light_

_ True love conquers all._

_Old man sittin' there_

_ Touch of grey, but he don't care_

_ When he hears his children call._

_I was thinkin' 'bout you and me_

_ I was thinkin' 'bout you and me_

_ I was thinkin' 'bout you and me_

_ I was thinkin' 'bout you and me _

_Open up your eyes_

_ See how lifetime flies_

_ Open up and let the light back in."_

Daryl waited until he felt her breathing slow, he let himself relax into the feeling of her curled safely next to him. He let himself need that.


	9. Chapter 9

They were back to stalking quietly through the woods, following tracks, looking for food, surviving.

Daryl was used to it, it was simple, the only demands that you had to meet were clearly laid out. Your stomach growled, you found something to eat. Something tried to kill you, you killed it. You shivered, you bunkered down and warmed up. You found her curled up against you, you held her close, like she was some vital part of you that had broken off into a separate body. Daryl got used to it, it was simple.

* * *

AN: I forgot to credit the song last chapter. You and Me by Neil Young. Sorry for this little blurb, it had a whole chapter to go with it but... I like it this way better, it's simple.


	10. Chapter 10

There was an intense rush of dread when he heard her yelp. It got better after he killed the walker and saw it was a small game trap. She was lucky, a bear trap would've been a different story.

He didn't flinch or tense up when she reached for him to help her up. He had been touching her without thinking of the consequences for days, he wondered how long it had been since his gut reaction to her proximity had changed.

She could've told him.

He didn't let her hobble along next to him. Daryl bent down and let her hop onto his back. He would navigate the uneven ground for both of them. It felt good to have her so close.

She thought so too.

He didn't hesitate when he reached down to wrap her ankle. Daryl's hands didn't tremble, they didn't hover slightly above her skin waiting for permission. He wondered when he got so comfortable with her, and if she noticed.

She did.

He wanted to sit next to her, on that piano bench. He wanted to wrap his arm around her shoulder and pull her close. He wanted to plunk out the silly eight note version of Twinkle, Twinkle he had played on one of those light-up keyboards once. He wanted her to tilt her face up to him so he could feel her lips against his. He wanted her to smile for him. He hesitated and sat in a coffin instead.

She noticed.

He didn't think twice about scooping her up into his arms. Daryl held her to his chest and smiled at the way her hand went around his neck.

She saw it.

He didn't say it. He shrugged. He let "I dunno," slip out. He hid behind his hair. He couldn't say the words.

She knew what they were anyway.


	11. Chapter 11

"It was my mom in bed, burnt down to nothin'. That was the hard part. Ya know? She was just gone. Erased. Nothin' left of her."

They had had a funeral for his mother, lowered an empty box into the ground by the cheapest headstone they had. His father reeked of whiskey next to him, the priest had a stutter. Daryl never went back to that cemetery, he knew there wasn't anything there. There wasn't a trace of her left, except for the guilt his father beat into his back. With Merle gone it was Daryl's fault she had been alone. That's what the old man screamed, that's what every scar on his body read.

* * *

"Hell with all y'all! Just tell me where he is so I can go get him!"

He would've done it too. He would've died trying to get his brother off that roof, even if they didn't go with him. He couldn't leave Merle there alone. He couldn't be alone either.

* * *

_"You're gonna go out there and get yourself hurt even worse. We don't know if we're gonna find her, Daryl."_

He was gonna find her. Damn right he was. He had to. It took the end of the world to get that little girl away from her father, to give her a chance, and Daryl wasn't going to let that slip away. He was so close he could see her wrapped up in Carol's arms, an arrow through his side, a bullet to his head, he wasn't letting her disappear. She had been gone already, he wasn't fast enough, good enough. All he had to remember her was the new pair of scars, added them to the rest that just held all his failures right there on his body.

* * *

"I just want my brother back."

Daryl was used to never getting what he wanted.

* * *

"No one can make it alone now."

"I never could."

That was the first time he had ever admitted it to anyone. That time being lost in the woods, when he was little, had terrified him. Tryin' to sleep and only hearing his own heartbeat. Hell, he fell off that ridge and conjured up some hallucination of his asshole brother just to keep himself going. Laying in bed on his stomach after that bastard had laid into him with the belt, Daryl had clenched his eyes shut against the tears and tried as hard as he could to remember the slurred way his mother's 'Love ya' sounded. He never tried to do anything by himself, while Merle was locked up he stayed with their dad. At least when he got bigger their father only lashed out at him with words. When he did leave it was because Merle said they were going. It stayed that way until Atlanta.

* * *

"I'm just tired of losin' people, s'all."

It was all he had ever done. Since he was nine years old. People would get close and as soon as he let down his walls they were gone, barely a trace of them left. It wasn't that he and Zach had been close, but every loss weighed on him. Having to tell Beth made it worse. He could feel his shoulders get heavier, the bruises under his eyes deepened every time they didn't get to say goodbye. Each time he pretended it was a choice.

* * *

"Everyone we know is dead!"

"You don't know that!"

"Might as well be, 'cause you ain't never gonna see 'em again."

He knew how horrible those words sounded. The truth he felt behind them was worse, he could feel it ripping away at him.

"Maybe if I wouldn'ta stopped lookin'."

He remembered that she had seen him. She had seen every scar on him like a signal flare for every time he let people down. She had touched every one of those wounds that announced all of the shame and failure he carried with him. Beth knew. She knew how it would always be his fault, how useless he had been taught he was. How every time there was something important he let everyone down, he did it. When she held him the forgiveness and absolution he felt had been harder to process than anything in his life. He had made her a promise then and had meant it with every last bit of hope he had. He could not let her down. Not her.

* * *

"BETH! BETH! BETH!"

That scream wasn't his. This was not happening. He didn't let this happen.

Daryl pushed his body harder than he ever had, seeing nothing but flashes of running after firetrucks to find ashes, running up concrete steps to find a severed hand, running to find nothing but a dirty rag doll, running into a field to shoot Dale in the head, running to find a sunken, dead version of his brother. Hearing nothing but his father's grating, drunk, growl.

Stupid.

Worthless.

That's on YOU boy.

You lost her.

You did that.

You lost her.

You.

Lost.

Her.

His muscles burned. His knees ached. Every gasping breath he pulled in held promises he never dared to say aloud. Just don't let her be gone. Don't.

_"You're gonna be the last man standing."_

Daryl's body shook as he fell to the ground.

He fell to the ground and couldn't bring himself up.

* * *

"I was with Beth. We got out together. I was with her for awhile."

Every time he closed his eyes Daryl could feel her gentle touch on his shoulder, her hand in his. The small bits of sleep he got were filled with images of her blue eyes, sounds of her gentle voice, he would wake up sure it was her arms around him. He tried not to remember how perfectly she fit right there under his arm. He wanted to bury the knowledge that she would have fit there forever. He thought about every time he could've touched her, but was too afraid to reach out. Those moments flashed through his mind on a constant loop.

"Is she dead?"

"She's just gone."

Sitting there with them, Rick, Michonne, and Carl, Daryl felt guilt wrap around him and sink deeper than it ever had before.

He didn't have any scars for her. There was nothing left of her he could see.

"People said it was better that way. I don't know."

People were wrong. He knew that for sure now.


	12. Chapter 12

_"You got to stay who you are, not who you were."_

He could feel himself pulling and pushing away. Throwing up walls, putting that steel back into his glare. He knew he was trying to douse that ember of hope that she had left hidden somewhere in him. He was trying to go back, back to Before… well, After... but Before her. Trying to be that outdoor cat. Trying to keep everyone away, he didn't deserve a family, her family. It had to be easier that way, there had to be some way that was easier.

_"You have to put it away."_

The guilt, the loneliness, the gut-wrenching emptiness he felt without her.

_ "You have to." _

Close it up. That part of himself that would always be there, only for her.

_ "Or it kills you."_

He wasn't going to let that happen. He wouldn't do that to her.

When Maggie stepped forward from the shadows in that train car, he held his breath. As each person stepped forward it got harder and harder for him to breathe. After, sitting in the corner by himself with his fingers running absently over the seams on his pants, he realized he had hoped Beth would be trapped in there too. He bit down hard on his split lip and focused on the metallic tang of blood in his mouth instead of the tears pricking at his eyes.

It takes longer than he would like to admit for him to be able to look at Maggie without seeing only her absence. He has to start with quick glances at her feet and move on from there. It's easier with the others. He knows Rick said something because no one even says her name around him. Maggie never confronts him, never lashes out at him for being the one to lose her. The most she does is give him a small smile. Once, when he woke up covered in sweat after reliving that night for what seemed like the hundredth time, she sat next to him. She was quiet, she didn't offer a comforting word or touch, but she was there. He wondered what it was that woke her and prayed it wasn't him calling out. She takes down every blond walker they come across, thinking maybe he won't notice. He hates that it makes things a little easier.

They meet up with Carol, Tyreese, and Judith. The air is ripped out of him when he sees that smiling little face. He lets himself feel it then, the longing for her to be there. No one notices when he turns away to press the heels of his palms to his eyes, or if they do they don't mention it. When it's his turn to hold the baby he brings her close and buries his nose in her soft hair. He lets himself take in a deep breath and remembers that she would've done anything to hold Lil' Asskicker again. He remembers how she told him once, that nothing was better than the smell of a baby. He lets himself think how close she was to being right.

Daryl's body moves nearly on autopilot when he hunts. His father's voice repeating the rudimentary steps of following a trail, reloading a weapon. He had grown used to hearing that same drunken growl from so many years ago, he expects it will always be there, some inner part of him. He notices it right before dawn one morning, the sun is just beginning to peak through the trees. It's not an ugly rasp of a voice in his head any more, it's hers. It doesn't berate him for taking a shaky step, or slightly lowering his weapon. He sees the rays of sun blinking through the trees, they illuminate the woods, _"Don't you think that's beautiful?." _ He stills on the trail and closes his eyes, just for a moment, to listen. _"Are we close?" _He nods to himself. _"How do you know?"_ Pile of droppings, tree rubbed to shreds. _"What are we tracking?" _It's a buck, big one. _"I'm getting good at this." _He keeps going. It's not long before he's slinging a nine point buck over his shoulders.

_"You got to stay who you are."_

And he does. It's her voice that sends him to sit next to Rick while they eat, to show Carl different ways to trap, to come back to camp after a hunt. It's her voice that tells him that there are still good people, that he is with good people... that he is one of the good people.

Nights are the hardest for him. He lays down to sleep with one arm thrown over his eyes and sees her sitting at a piano, feels her running fingers through his still damp hair. It's even harder when he can feel the emptiness beside him. That cavernous void in him that her small body somehow managed to fill. He swears he hears her as he closes his eyes, _"It's okay, I'll take first watch."_

One day, when he's bent over cleaning squirrels, he realizes he's humming. It's the song she sang that night in the van, when he yelled at her. He looks over his shoulder, feeling someone nearby. Maggie smiles at him, "Beth's mom always sang that to my dad." His heart soars and sinks at the same time.

When it rains he swears he can feel her soft hands taking the tension out of his back, not hesitating to reach out and comfort him. Those are the nights he gets up and takes Judith from whoever has her. He tries to duplicate the way she used to hold her, the slight sway of her stance. He sings. He doesn't care that his voice is too low, too rough, too sad. It's quiet and only for them, to know they aren't alone in the storm.

"_Maybe you got to keep on reminding me sometimes."_

Maybe there was something left of her.

"_Wouldn't kill you to have a little faith."_

Maybe there always would be.

_"I'm not gonna leave you."_

Daryl knows she never will.


	13. Chapter 13

It doesn't surprise Daryl that this winter is colder than the last one. The temperature steadily drops below freezing at night, he can tell by the frost on the ground and the way the night air shocks his lungs with every breath he pulls in. It keeps getting colder the farther away from home they go. The days have had an almost constant grey background, it seems appropriate. As they move north from one unsafe spot to another he wonders if he is the only one feeling ghosts trekking along beside them.

There are memories of their last winter on the road everywhere he looks. He sees Hershel when Maggie still bows her head to pray before every meager meal. He sees Lori when Rick falls asleep sitting up with Carl and Judith on either side of him. He doesn't want to think about how often he sees Beth. He sees her in every member of their group. She is there with him on every hunt, every run. It's still harder at night, nearly impossible, he doesn't think that will ever change. He can't bed down without the now familiar loneliness settling in beside him, where she should be.

Things have changed in their group. Michonne spends most of her time with Carl. Carol and Tyreese have some sort of connection Daryl doesn't want to ask about, he knows it doesn't stem from something good, there is too much pain in both of their eyes. He tries not to pay too much attention to Glenn and Maggie, it's good that they have each other but it's too hard on him when they smile. He spends his time with Rick, there is a sense of understanding there, in his brother.

It's to the point now that the weather forces them to go into towns to sleep. Houses are closer together anyway, now that they have migrated nearer to the coastline. There have been small fenced in settlements that pointed them away to a safe spot to sleep. Each place they spend a few nights in eats away at him. Too many houses have pianos. Too many have cramped white kitchens. There are too many beat up trailers, and abandoned minivans.

He jokes with Michonne and Carl about stupid things. Their smirks and huffs of laughter make the days bearable. He plans supply runs with Glenn, stakes out their campsites with Rick and Abraham. There are a few things he doesn't do, he doesn't make flirty banter with Carol. He doesn't go out of his way to talk to Eugene, Tara, or Rosita. He always hunts alone.

Maggie sobs on Christmas.

They were in a town, stumbled upon some other people who in passing let them know the day. No one had any presents to give, not until Daryl ducks in to a practically empty gas station and comes out with a cheaply made stuffed dog for Judith. When they settle in for the night it's in a little brick ranch style house. Maggie is still crying. She talks through her tears about them picking out a tree together, baking cookies, doing some silly version of Secret Santa where they couldn't spend any money. Daryl never did any of those things, he misses them anyway.

Glenn slips away for a minute, he comes back from the basement carrying one of those tacky, all silver, artificial trees. Daryl says it's worse than Charlie Brown's. They set it up in the middle of the room. Daryl can't be there when they start singing, the discordant Christmas carols tear away at the remainder of his resolve. He mumbles something about not wanting to be part of a Chevy Chase movie as he rushes out the door. He sits cross-legged on the porch, sorting through his pack. He does alright, holds everything together. At least until he finds a lone cherry cough drop in one of those pockets.


	14. Chapter 14

They move east until they're traveling parallel to Route 1, staying close enough to the highway to keep on track and far enough to keep safe. It gets colder after New Year's. A different kind of cold coming in off the Atlantic. Daryl notices how much heavier everyone's footsteps are as they enter Virginia. They are coming across more and more vagabond groups like theirs. No one tries to join up or help out. Everyone is wary, after all, who are the good people? The most interaction is pointing in the direction of a mostly safe town or an old farm with an orchard and wishing for safe travels.

It's not that bad, being on the road again, it seems like there are less and less walkers to deal with. They've been hungry, but not starving. Daryl doesn't have a problem hunting across state lines, he hadn't had a license in Georgia anyhow. Several times they are stopped by armored trucks and men in fatigues for a single question.

"Any bitten?"

"No."

"Safe travels."

They don't wait to hear Abraham's mission statement or see if they can do anything for the baby. Glenn and Rick determine that they're simply clearing out as many of the undead that they can, trying to give the rest of the living a chance. It gives everyone a spark of hope that D.C. might be what they're looking for, Daryl has a different spark of hope, it gets dimmer every day.

It's not that bad, Judith starts to talk, a hardly intelligible language made of da's and ba's. Daryl heckles Carl for the nearly invisible hairs he insists need to be shaved. Michonne heckles Daryl right back, "Like you can see anything behind that mess you call hair?" Eugene goes on and on about video games and other things that don't matter anymore. Carol and Maggie shoot sad glances at Daryl when he goes to take watch at night. He knows why now, Tyreese told him, his nightmares have never been silent.

It's not that bad, at least not until Tara gets sick. She stays at some little town that happens to have a doctor and a few people who might know what they're doing, it's hard on them all, to leave someone, but they keep moving. A week later, when Judith gets that same cough, rumbling in her tiny chest, it gets bad. She won't eat, barely drinks. Boarded up pharmacy after boarded up pharmacy, everyone comes up empty handed. They need to turn around, there is no need for discussion, they do.

Abraham is at the fence line after two days of no sleep, trying to reason with some man who doesn't seem to understand what they want. Daryl raises his bow.

"Don't be sorry, not for leaving someone. Don't ever be sorry."

Carl picks up on those words, something about the sincerity in them. He looks to Rick for confirmation.

"Morgan?"

Just as Rick begins to approach the situation, another person approaches them. Hands held high, telling Morgan to relax. The grey knit hat and heavy coat do little to hide the fact that it's a woman, there is a bright shock of blond hair poking out from under the hat. Daryl turns when he catches the bit of movement out of the corner of his eye. His heart stops mid-beat, his mouth goes dry.

"BETH! Bethy!" Maggie slams past everyone, arms splayed until she crashes unceremoniously into her sister.


	15. Chapter 15

He had spent so much time pushing every bit of her away from him that when she is standing there within his reach he completely freezes. His eyes squeeze shut and blink a few times when he reopens them. Daryl can feel Rick's gaze shift to him when the crossbow clatters to the ground. Her arms are wrapped around her sister. As she's hugging Maggie and Glenn, his insides are unraveling. She moves away from them and starts walking in his direction. He's stuck where he's standing. Suddenly he's terrified. His eyes dart from one person to the next until they land on her. Her standing right in front of him, looking right into him. Her big blue eyes.

His breath is coming in harsh pants, everything is moving so fast and so achingly slow. Daryl is standing stock still when her arms make their way under his vest and around his body. His hands are fisted so tightly at his sides that his nails cut little half moon marks into his palms. He furrows his brow and clamps his eyes closed.

When he finally opens them it's to look at Maggie. She is the only one he can trust to handle this, she knows what this means to him. There are things she doesn't really know, like how every person Daryl has let past his barricades has left parts of him more scarred up than his body is. He never told her, but he knows she can see it painted all over him right now, at least when it comes to her sister. Daryl's eyes are pleading with her, tears are on the verge of spilling over. "This… this 's real," He pulls in a halting, shaky breath, "Right?"

Maggie has never seen hope manifest itself in such a heartbreaking way.

She sees her sister's shoulders hitch at the sound of his rough, broken voice. She can see how desperately he is fighting to keep himself composed. She can see how hard it is for him to stop himself from unquestioningly embracing the girl he has called out for every night in his sleep. How he can't do anything until he has some reassurance that he hasn't finally lost it. Maggie holds his frantic gaze, "It's real, Daryl."

It's a heaving, half sob that comes from him. At the sound everyone except for Maggie, Glenn and Rick turn away. His knees buckle and his weight falls onto her. He tries to remember all the things he has held onto, to prove to her he didn't forget, but he can hardly get enough air to keep on his feet. His trembling hands move from her shoulders, to her hair, to her face and back again. She stands there, smiling, with tears on her cheeks. He finally pulls her so close that it feels like he's trying to make her part of him, even though she knows she already is. All Daryl can think is that he's never gotten anything he wanted before, but if keeping all those empty Christmases and one sided good-byes means he gets to have this one moment, this one perfect moment with her in his arms, he wouldn't change one goddamned thing.

* * *

Daryl is self conscious of his constant need to touch her, he is too nervous to look up and see disdain on anyone's face. They're all sitting by the fireplace in a small cape on the outskirts of the town, bowls of some 'everything but the kitchen sink' stew in their laps. He sort of remembers someone saying it's Beth's place. Everyone is talking, happy for the first time in nearly six months. Rick is staying at the doc's place, getting Judith taken care of, some sort of respiratory infection, she will be alright. He listens to everyone telling different sides of the same story.

He eats one-handed and keeps his eyes on her soft hand covering his on her knee. He listens to the story about Maggie and Glenn finding each other, and even though he has heard it a dozen times, this is the first time he understands it. He listens to Carol tell about all the things Judith does now. He listens to Beth tell about Morgan killing the man who was convinced making her his would save her. The only words his mouth wants to form are hysterical apologies for not being there and reverent prayers of her name, he stays silent.

Beth lets her gaze roam around the room, looking over her family. Her eyes always go back to him. She watches as he shovels the food into his mouth, finished before half of them even started, and is sitting beside her, staring at their small point of contact. She watches him cringe when she talks about what could've happened to her. He swallows hard and chews on his bottom lip, god she missed that.

Maggie is next to her, pressed up against her other side, the relief Beth feels in her sister's presence brings a smile to her face. They stay there talking about the different paths they took to end up in this spot and contemplate the idea that they are all supposed to be together.

Beth gives Maggie and Glenn her room for the night, opting to stay by fire. She can tell Daryl isn't ready to go anywhere. As the rest of their family goes to bed, he stays there on the couch until she falls asleep still holding his hand.

That night, it's not nightmares that jolt him awake. Every hour or two he finds himself awake there on that couch. It's just long enough to look over and see that she's really there. Just long enough to squeeze her hand. Just long enough to feel that void inside him filling back up.


	16. Chapter 16

They've been back together for three days before Daryl trusts that it's all real enough to talk to her. That the words he hears back won't just be his memory cutting and pasting all their old conversations. He has done his best not to leave her side, staying close by no matter what she's doing. Keeping her safe. Every time she stands next to him he reaches out to lace their hands together. All day he has been trying to find the right time, the right thing to say. A nearly impossible feat for someone who has never been closely acquainted with kind words. It's after dinner, everyone else has left, gone to their own temporary homes. He can see everything she does in the kitchen from his perch at the end of the couch. Daryl watches her move around the small room, cleaning up and putting things away. He has never felt so comforted just by watching someone. When he finally manages to croak out her name she drops the plate she is washing to the floor and is next to him in an instant.

He has so many things he wants to tell her. So many things to promise her. The most he can do is bury his face in her stomach where she stands in front of his seat. His back is sore, his right leg is pins and needles from sitting still to long, she smells so perfect, he's in heaven. Daryl knows he should say something, some great, meaningful thing that will move them forward and away from his ever present, desperate need. But he has kept a tally in his head of all the times he has wanted to say her name.

"Beth."

"Beth." He whispers.

"Beth." It sounds like an apology.

"Beth." He pulls her closer.

"Beth." It's muffled in her shirt.

"Beth." His thumbs find the skin of her hips.

"Beth." She feels him take in a deep breath.

"Beth." Her fingers weave into his hair.

"Beth." She can feel the things he isn't saying.

"Beth." It amazes her how beautiful her name can sound.

"Beth." There is so much relief in his voice.

"Beth." There is even more of something else.

"Beth."

"Beth."

"Beth."

She hears it then, that something else, it's love.


	17. Chapter 17

Daryl isn't sure how long he stays there, trying desperately to convey all the things he feels for her, all the ways she's changed him, with just one word. His fingers slide under her shirt and up her stomach, they push up and under the sleeves of her sweater. His rough hands lightly ghost over her collar bones. Daryl is touching her everywhere he can, memorizing every dip and swell of her body, cataloguing every freckle. He is whispering against her skin and every time his lips press together to form her name it feels like a kiss. Beth has always wanted to know what it would feel like to have someone see her, all of her. She knows he does. He sees exactly who she is and who she wants to be, she hopes he can see that she is his.

She motions for him to follow her to their makeshift bed. He stills and looks into the fireplace, around the room and then back to her. He closes his eyes and sends silent thanks to whatever power has let him have her back unbroken. He doesn't say anything as he kneels beside her, doesn't ask if she's sure, doesn't tell her that she shouldn't want him. He does lift her shirt over her head after she guides his hands to the hem. He does undo the button on her jeans in one swift motion and then pulls them down just as smoothly.

Beth reaches to the buttons of his flannel and pushes it off his shoulders as he unfastens his pants and pulls them off. He gently pushes her back and lets his hands continue just barely touching her, up and down her arms and legs, gently caressing her face. He never takes his eyes off her. When he tugs a little at her bra strap she nods. He reaches around, underneath her, to undo the clasp. He moans quietly at the sight of her breasts and takes one in his hand and the other in his mouth.

There are butterflies in her stomach but they aren't there because she's nervous. Beth's skin is tingling everywhere, it doesn't bother her that they haven't kissed. This is something beyond gossiping about which base you made it to at the drive in. She can feel it in every touch of his hand, every flick of his tongue. She sees it every time his eyes meet hers. This is about hope, and promises, and redemption, and love. It is most of all about love.

When his fingers slide her underwear down and gently push into her all he can think is how tight and warm and perfect she is. The tiny gasp she makes when he rubs his thumb over her might be the most beautiful sound he's ever heard. His other hand commits to memory the twitch of her hips when his thumb changes direction.

Beth reaches down to pull his thin tank off and he lets her. She pulls him close, their chests pressed together, his body is relishing in the contact. Daryl moves his mouth to her neck and she tangles a hand in his hair. He can't find words for the feeling of her heartbeat pounding just as hard as his.

His body is vibrating, their closeness coupled with the anticipation of being buried inside her with nothing between them is nearly too much. The slight resistance her body gives and the gasp she almost manages to suppress when he finally pushes into her only take him closer to losing control. Daryl stops and watches her face. It's hell for him to keep still, worse when she bites her lip adjusting to the feeling of him inside her, but he does. He is so intent on not missing a single detail that he hardly realizes how close he is. It isn't until she experimentally shifts her hips that he feels it.

Beth is just as enthralled with watching him. The way he chews his lip as he guides himself into her, the barely audible sigh when he can't get any closer to her, the way his pupils dilate when he looks down at her face. She moves her hips, just a bit, to see what he will do. The sharp breath he pulls in and the way he closes his eyes make her do it again.

"Beth…I…"

And again.

"I ain't…"

He can feel every inch of her around him.

She does it again and he's gone. She feels his body stiffen and hears his grunt in her ear. Daryl's hips jerk into her fast and hard enough to leave bruises, she can feel warmth pooling inside her. His body is twitching with the after effects as he relaxes. After a minute he falls to her side, still half on top of her. His breathing is heavy and hot on her neck. The weight of his arm around her middle and his leg twisted between hers makes her feel safer than she has in years. She let's her hand rub idle patterns on his back as their breathing evens out.

Beth feels her eyelids getting heavy, she is pulled away from falling asleep when he quietly clears his throat. " 'M sorry it wasn't…"

"Daryl."

"Mmm."

"That was perfect. I love you."

He hugs her body almost too tightly and she closes her eyes.

When he eventually answers her his voice is low, barely a whisper, and she can feel the slight dampness of tears on her shoulder. "Love you."


	18. Chapter 18

When Beth wakes up the bed is warm, but empty. Her body is sore but it's a welcome feeling, one she wasn't sure she would ever get to have. She stretches and looks around until she sees him in the kitchen. She smiles at the sight of his bare back, his pants slung low on his hips. She watches the way he moves around, opening all the cabinets and carefully closing them so they don't squeak, back and forth from the counter to the table. Daryl's motions are all so smooth, it amazes her how obvious his strength is when he's not hiding himself. He looks a little out of place indoors, until he turns around and sees she's awake, a small smile pulls at the corner of his mouth as he goes to her.

"Morning."

"Good morning."

He sits down next to her and touches the ends of her hair. "You alright?" He looks away, down at where his fingers are tangled before she can answer.

"I'm great." Her hand reaches out to still his, she can see the worry in his eyes and in the closed off way he carries his body. "Daryl, last night? It was perfect, better than I ever thought my first time would be."

Blush creeps up his neck and he lets out a snort of disbelief, "Ain't gotta lie to me."

"I'm not."

He just shakes his head.

Beth sighs, "Didya ever have one of those birds and bees talks?"

Another shake.

"Well, I did. My mom, she told me something that always stood out to me." She raises a hand to Daryl's jawline, "That it should be about being close, trusting someone, giving them a piece of you that no one else gets. The other stuff isn't what it's really about. It's supposed to be about love, Daryl. Last night was perfect."

He leans in and presses his closed lips to hers. It's quick, he starts to pull away just as they make contact. Beth moves her hands to pull him back. Daryl makes a low whine when she presses up against his lips. She pulls back a fraction of and inch and gently moves her lips over his, it takes a few passes but he starts to kiss her back. When Beth pulls his bottom lip between hers the whimper he lets out makes her moan. She starts to push his mouth open and their teeth clack together.

Daryl pulls back and looks down, "Sorry, never did that. Only when I was drunk." He doesn't know what to think of the smile on her face.

He grabs his sleeveless shirt and pulls it on then picks up his flannel from the floor and hands it to her. "Here." He watches her put it on and holds his hand out to help her up. Before she can step off the mattress he swings her up into his arms. Her laugh of surprise makes him press his forehead to hers. She puts a kiss on his cheek when he places her in the kitchen chair and notices he set the two places at the table next to each other, not across. They sit down to a breakfast of homemade bread and canned peaches. He finishes before her and she watches him suck the juice off his fingers.

"I missed you." She says it lightly, just letting him know, but his eyes darken at her words and his brow furrows.

"Beth." His voice is pleading with her, he doesn't want to think about those months without her. He never wants to think about them again.

"Well, I did." She takes in a deep breath. "When that car came, I thought you were gone. He just threw me in the backseat, I couldn't even fight him, not thinkin' that about you." She looks up at him, "I heard you, when we were driving away. I saw you, running" Tears slipped out then. "I tried to get out. There weren't any handles on the doors."

Daryl's head is hung low, listening to her. His voice is quiet when he speaks, "Ran all night." He pulls at a loose thread on the table cloth. "Mosta the next day too." He sighs. "After Terminus, I tried to look… there's nowhere to start. Just walking through the woods hoping I'd stumble on you."

"It woulda been bad if Morgan hadn't found me." He's already heard the details.

" 'M so sorry…"

"We found your tracks somewhere outside Camden. Me and Morgan."

His ears perk up at that.

"There was a deer carcass, strung up. A big buck. There was a broken bolt from your crossbow." She looks sheepish, "I kept it. One of the antlers too."

" 'S a nine-pointer?" He only got one that big the whole time they were on the road.

"Yeah."

She tells him about the other traces they left. Candy wrappers from Carl and Michonne, tracks from a large group, one of the gloves she had stitched Maggie's initials on. She tells him how she cried when she found a dirty diaper next to the scrap of tarp Carol used to change Judith on. She tells him how hard it was for them to find food. How cold it was, a different kind of cold. How all she wanted was to feel his arm around her at night. She tells him how she cried, being alone on Christmas. About hearing his voice in her head following their trail. She tells him about the feeling of disbelief seeing him there at the fence. She finishes and he pulls her to sit on his lap.

"It felt like someone ripped a part of me clean off. Like I wouldn'ta gone back together the right way no matter what." He's talking into her hair. "There was too much missing. I ain't gonna do that again. Thinkin' you're… gone, damn near killed me."

"I'm not leaving you, not again."

He nods. "Wouldn't let ya anyhow." He pulls away to look at her, "Can't believe you's the one tracking me."

She smiles at him. "The signs were all there, I just had to figure out how to read them."


	19. Chapter 19: Epilogue

Maggie tends to smile when she sees Daryl and Beth together, it's something in the way they look at each other or in the way their bodies seem to sync together. The times when Daryl sits away from them, staying on the outskirts of the group, Beth will catch his eye. Depending on what she sees he will join them or she moves to sit with him. Every time he gets back from hunting, he immediately goes to her, looks her over and whispers something to her before placing a modest kiss to her lips. When Maggie watches them she sees something different than the love between her and Glenn, not better or more, just different. There are slight changes in her sister since they found her. A little more confidence in her stance, a more determined look in her eye, Maggie is sure that these things mean her sister has grown up, found what she needed. Their father would be happy.

The changes in Daryl are slightly less subtle. He smiles. Real smiles, not just a smirk here and there. There is a difference in his stance too. One day, Beth asks Carol if he looks taller. She smiles and points out he's standing up straight, the boulder of shame and guilt and loneliness he carries on his shoulders seems to have shrunk. Rick notices he tends to let his opinion be known more often, he also doesn't miss the way Daryl's eyes dart to her after he says something. Michonne sees it when they're out on a quick supply run, when he takes out walkers there isn't a flash of anger in him, isn't a need to destroy something.

Beth sings all the time. The two months they spend in that town, waiting for winter to pass and Judith and Tara to get better, are filled with her songs. There are a few that Daryl hums along to.

When the group is deciding how they will move on from this quiet place, everyone is brought down. It's determined over dinner at Beth and Daryl's that they may be splitting up. Abraham needs to continue his mission with Eugene and Rosita. Tara is going with them. Rick wants to stay, for Judith. Maggie and Glenn are unsure, waiting to see what Beth says. Michonne is staying. Carol and Tyreese are going with a promise to be back.

After everyone leaves Beth sits back down at the table. "So, what should we do?"

Daryl looks around the the kitchen from where he's leaning on the counter, "S'up to you. Whatever you want, I'll be there."

Beth smiles at him, "I know." She sighs, "I'll be right back."

As he stands there, waiting for her to come back, he looks around the only place that has ever felt like a home should. It's safe here, she's here. He has a fireplace and a fourposter bed. There's a big garden out front and the forests nearby have been making for good hunting. She never yells, she rubs his back at night when he's stiff from being out in the cold. Beth sleeps curled up against him, she lets him touch her, want her, love her. She loves him back. He swallows down the feeling of disappointment that this won't last.

She looks nervous when she walks up to him. "Daryl, maybe we stick around here for awhile?" She pushes something into his hands and takes a step back.

He is so happy at what she's saying that it takes a minute for him to realize she gave him something. Daryl looks down at the flat piece of plastic in his hands. His eyes snap up to hers, then to her stomach. When he lifts his eyes back to hers she starts to cry. He's biting his lip and smiling, she knows he's keeping back tears. He nods. "We stick around here." He pulls her into his arms and whispers the same thing he tells her everyday, "You. Beth, you changed my mind. Love you."

* * *

AN:Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed! I couldn't resist giving these guys a HEA.


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